| Friday, August 15th, 2008 |
| 12:18 pm |
|
| Tuesday, October 9th, 2007 |
| 1:32 am |
The podcast is still going strong
I'm not sure if we have any listeners but we've began to get a feel for doing the show and have began to do some segments. Following our bad audio but good content 8th episode breakdown on revisionist Westerns I think we've really started to fire on all cylinders. They're not all A++ podcasts but it's a good learning experience for me and it's something fun to do chating about stuff I enjoy so I think I'll keep doing it. http://futiletitle.blogspot.com Current Mood: accomplished |
| Thursday, August 30th, 2007 |
| 1:20 am |
Check out the Futile Podcast
I've been recording it for a few months building a few episodes mostly random still learning how to format something remotely entertaining but you can check it out here: http://futiletitle.blogspot.com/
-Ian Current Mood:  anxiousCurrent Music: feels like Nine Inch Nails but not yet |
| Saturday, December 10th, 2005 |
| 5:23 pm |
Phrase of the Millennium
I was reading up on Richard D. James commonly known as Aphex Twin and I encountered the phrase Circuit Bending which I think is just a great term and sort of a nice metaphor for this Modern American Life. You can read about it some here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Circuit_bending Current Mood:  amusedCurrent Music: Back From Space by Amon Tobin |
| Tuesday, November 29th, 2005 |
| 9:34 pm |
Moving On
I don't know but I seem to prefer the format of my futiletitle spot http://futiletitle.blogspot.com and I rarely post anything anyway (Somewhat Less Futile yeah right) so I might just leave this thing to die. I'm sure there will be some things that might be best put here but for now I like the occasional comment on pop culture (OR essay as the verbiage may ellicit) so I think this one is done for now. |
| Wednesday, June 15th, 2005 |
| 9:59 pm |
Tired Noir pt. 5
Eleven o’clock, that means maybe seven hours. Not too bad. I pulled my gun from the laundry basket and put it in the freezer, an old habit. I brushed my teeth and splashed my face with some water, brushing my hair down with my hands. Looking at the basket of dirty clothes I realized it was laundry day. When I got back to the place I remembered my appointment with Sarah. It was only Noon so I was fine. Time to clean up. The lukewarm shower water cleaned me well enough. Startled out of a daydream, I heard the sound of my cell phone. “Hello,” It was Erik today was the day. Damn, sorry Sarah. I quickly dressed in my professional clothes dark blue slacks and coat a yellow dress shirt and a thin black tie. “Let’s get into character.” I always said that before I went out. It’s good to have a sense of humor. I took the gun from the freezer the cold steel robbed my hand of it’s living warmth. Clicking the safety off I slipped it into my holster. It was one fifteen. Derek would be sleeping off a hangover. I strolled into the lobby of his building giving a friendly glance to one of the neighbors who had seen me around these past few weeks. 606 that was the number and unfortunately for Derek his was up. I clicked the elevator and selected the 5th floor. Another habit, always approach from more than one conceivable angle and make them think they have you figured out. I got out on the 5th floor and waited for a few minutes. Looking out the hall window I noticed that this was turning out to be a pleasant Spring afternoon the sort that reminded you how appealing the world could be. |
| Monday, June 13th, 2005 |
| 3:16 pm |
Tired Noir pt. 3
My apartment was cold, it had the familiar sterile ambience of an empty place. The faint orange glow of a street light seeped into the main room and defined the entirety of my fengi-shui incompetent lifestyle. Now what? Drink. I need to get warm. Drink. I clicked on the thermostat sat on the edge of the couch and poured a glass of whiskey. The sharp antiseptic flavor felt good, the toxic smell of alcohol mixed with the residue of her strawberry lip gloss made me nauseous. It would pass. I drank some more. I clicked on the record player and listened as the faithfully time scarred jazz recording hissed and bounced evoking a pre-life nostalgia. I lit a cigarette and began to fill the room with smoke. A vision of the girl burst into my mind I slumped over embracing my depression. The cigarette burned down to my mouth, the smoke irritated my eyes, I was paralyzed. I lurched forward onto the end of the couch punched the cigarette out into the ashtray and downed the rest of my drink. I kicked the record player off and turned on the television. The blue glow warmed my face. I perused the synthetic world, entertained only by the escape from my own thoughts. |
| Sunday, June 12th, 2005 |
| 2:10 pm |
Tired Noir story pt. 1
Though she was sitting right next to me for the last hour I did not notice how beautiful she was until I decided to look at her. I made an inane comment about the color of her shirt, she noticed that the lap top computer I had been writing on also had an element with that color. I was mesmerized by her face. She smiled with the sincerity of a cynic. We became so close she moved to kiss me and I dodged her embrace without thinking. I felt her tender lips grate against the stubble on my cheek. I hugged her and felt aware of my humanity something bigger than myself for a brief moment. Fear of that humanity lead me to avoid her kiss. I could not relinquish my familiar solitary anxiety. I could not let another person take my pain away. I could not give someone the power to make me feel better. I fought with my desire to be with her while I desperately squeezed her. The novelty of this feeling of longing told me that I could trust it as an exaggeration, a faulty reading and so I rejected it. “I’m sorry.” That was all I could tell her. |
| Friday, June 10th, 2005 |
| 3:20 pm |
SAW II tracklisting sans ideograms
There is a description for every one of these pictures floating around. Some of these seem very subjective and I don't know who decided on them, but they seem to be accepted by everyone. From these descriptions we get the unofficial track listing for the UK vinyl pressing of Ambient Works Vol.2 by Aphex Twin (Richard D. James). Disc 1 1 - `cliffs' 7:27 2 - `radiator' 6:34 3 - `rhubarb' 7:44 4 - `hankie'* 5 - `grass' 8:55 6 - `mold' 3:31 7 - `curtains' 8:51 8 - `blur' 5:08 Disc 2 9 - `weathered stone' 6:54 10 - `tree' 9:58 11 - `domino' 7:18 12 - `white blur 1' 2:38 13 - 'blue calx' 7:20 14 - `parallel stripes' 8:00 15 - `shiny metal rods' 5:33 16 - `grey stripe' 4:45 17 - `z twig' 2:05 Disc 3 18 - `window sill' 7:16 19 - `stone in focus'* 20 - `hexagon' 5:57 21 - `lichen' 4:15 22 - `spots' 7:09 23 - `tassels' 7:30 24 - `white blur 2' 11:27 25 - `matchsticks' 5:39 *missing on US CD version |
| Saturday, June 4th, 2005 |
| 5:59 pm |
sci-fi short pt.2
Four hours of trying to sleep and ignore the botulism, it must be. He just needs to get his mind off the bad noodles and the progressive degeneration. Nothing has changed his whole arm is white now except for where light falls onto it a purple patch a green one a yellow. Must be sicker than I thought. Pain from where? Now a sadness then an elation, an unsatisfactory ending cleaner closure than life affords. He is sick and now his sheets smell of bile and noodle like a puddle of fish bait he looks at it with a comfort the stench brings him back to reality and the physical presence of this god awful pile gives him confidence that his body has been purged. Back at the bathroom the sheets go in the shower/bath tub to soak he washes his face and rinses his mouth, spitting a piece of carrot into the sink. Looking into the mirror he does not see a change. He takes his shirt off then his pants standing at the mirror he can see how the infection has spread. Half of his body is the white color with the projections. The intensity grabs him and he reels back it continues to spread he is becoming a human projector and all the pain and wonder as lost memories and lies and the contrivance of media are hurled at him. Two more hours suns almost up, maybe the light will end the torture? Everything but his face and eyes are the screen thought is blurred with a thousand bursts of on the spot action. He has tried to scrap the skin to scratch the surface but it goes too deep and nothing can save him. He madly stalks through his surroundings camouflaged with the projected light disheveled he knows everything and the madness cannot be held. He grabs for a knife stabs into his core rips open the screen no blood within only blackness he is no more. He gets a sewing kit and calls it a day. |
| 12:30 am |
cont'd
B: I don’t want to own a new waffling iron. J: Well perhaps this old deck of cards would serve your purpose? B: I only work on Thursday nights and that’s must see. J: Please hold your food in your mouth when being spoken to. B: After all the crud from this Winter I still feel reasonably invincible. J: How do you like your eggs? B: Only the Lonely is far better than Pretty Woman I mean that assumes that you have taste. J: Would someone open the cupboard and let the flies out? B: Patients don’t usually have much. J: Much what? B: Patience. . . it’s sort of a little joke I just derived there. J: It’s not very funny. B: Really more for my own amusement. J: You’re not laughing. B: Yeah could I get a diet drink? |
| 12:06 am |
Beckett indeed.
Okay so there is Rick and Lorenzo. These guys just got off work at some factory job making twist-ties and are hanging out in the office kitchen. R: So Friday.? L: Yep, gonna get me some wieners on the way home. How about you? R: I don’t like sausage. L: What . . . R: (Interrupting) or any packaged meats really I am more of a steak and potatoes kind of guy. L: So you don’t gamble then? R: I like Black Jack, there’s a man’s game but none of that slot machine crap that’s just for old laddies. L: The one-armed bandit. R: What about Dr. Richard Kimbal? L: No that’s what they call the slot machines. R: And bingo, that’s a game for lost souls and terminal old people. L: That’s probably why they have it at churches. R: No man that’s why I go with Black Jack every time, you know what’s great about it? L: The lack of skill. R: Naw man fuck that it’s the HIT ME. Hell where else can you say something like that? L: Outside a bar when you’re drunk. R: (Calming down) Well yeah I guess but it’s not the same I mean this is all mental no fisticuffs. L: And you are a pacifist. R: Yeah. |
| Wednesday, June 1st, 2005 |
| 7:21 pm |
These Modern Times w/ Insanity
It just occurred to me as I embarked on the same sequence of events with the hope of achieving different results that I was being insane. This is the common definition I guess. Yet I've found myself doing many things like this and what is to be said? Am I nuts? Sure but not because of these reasonably inane things. I think that the complexities of technology and such that the speed with which this society is moving are driving all of us a bit insane in this way. What's the best way to get a computer that is inexplicably not working to work? Restart it. Okay sometimes that works sometimes it doesn't there is a rationale behind this action but it is usually a hully gully approach toward solving a problem that does not have an immediate solution. And what about the principle of persistence? The if first you don't succeed adage? Perhaps it's too wordy to say: "try try again but do it differently". Still, it seems to me that in life there are many scenarios and situations where the results will vary and do vary dependent upon many factors and that we mortals in our infinite ignorance might always miss something. Perhaps this insanity is a bit inevitable though I suppose it works only in a retroactive sense to attempt something with a priori expectations can only take one sofar. It is insane to do something that you know won't work but you never really know any results until after the event has occurred and it is at this time that one is insane; not for taking the action or even having the expectation since this expectation is simply a skeptical assertion against previous empirical data. Rather the insanity comes from not understanding the results and not showing due regard toward the further validity of that empirical data to test this data is a human prerogative to dispute the results is simple insanity but to expect the same results for what is seemingly the same situation is in many cases is just as insane since it is not necessarily in our power to eliminate the aspect of uncertainty. Taking a hard line semantic approach, the point is moot since the same actions and circumstances is not seemingly the same, it is the same. On paper, in words, insanity is clear but in the real world I just don't think that is the case. |
| Monday, May 30th, 2005 |
| 10:08 pm |
Reverence in a Bathroom
So I was in the bathroom at my school Humboldt State University where I'm studying audio and film and I saw someone had written "Bird Lives" in big black Sharpie on the stall. At first I thought hey they must be talking about Charlie Parker, that's pretty cool. Then I saw that Big had been written above it, ironically in smaller letters. So I got to thinking about Sesame Street and if they ever used any of Parker's music during one of those 70's looking documentary segments about how they mass produce lasagna noodles or something? Cause that'd be pretty cool. edit - After watching Ken Burn's Jazz documentary on PBS this Sunday I noticed that this is a reference to Charlie Parker and that some smartass must have added the small big in later. |
| 10:03 pm |
A second entry ah.
So I was reading Jackson Publick's journal http://www.livejournal.com/users/jacksonpublick/ today since Venture Bros. is a great show with many reliable laughs and I responded to a question he had about ways to quit smoking. I told him to try substituting licorice Altoids for Cigarettes. I then noticed something peculiar that since Altoids are made in the UK they spell licorice Liquorice how about that. |
| Saturday, March 26th, 2005 |
| 9:25 pm |
Something to vent
I got nothing right now. I just posted to a friends blog and used the word pedantic for the first time in my life. I had to look it up though it basically meant what I thought it did. Funny thing about vocabulary it's a wonderful weapon. Oh well the pen is mighty tough I guess. |
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
toliverchap's journal